


A solid, sturdy relationship

by sherlockcrush



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omg there are already tags for tie kink and desk sex., Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tie Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockcrush/pseuds/sherlockcrush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Gregory…we’re in my office. It’s not suitable.”</p><p>Suddenly, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade decided that he’d had enough. Enough teasing. Enough waiting. Enough almost touching. He shoved a leg roughly between Mycroft’s thighs, pushing  them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A solid, sturdy relationship

It was nearly 8:30 in the evening when DI Lestrade quietly stepped into the front foyer of the plush and haughty Diogenes Club. He and his boyfriend, Mycroft Holmes, had had dinner plans at a nice little Italian place that Greg had found. But as the DI had left work, he’d received a text from Anthea:

_Mr. Holmes regrets that he is delayed by a meeting with the Cardinal of London, and will need to delay your dinner. –A_

_Where is he? – GL_

_At the Diogenes. –A_

Greg read the text and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, groaning inwardly. They had been unable to see each other for nearly a week and a half due to their ever-changing schedules and long hours. The Italian place he had picked was small and intimate, and not far from Mycroft’s Mayfair flat. His plan had been to seduce his boyfriend and take him back to his posh flat and ravish him senseless.

An idea occurred to him and he grinned, sending a quick text to Anthea: _I will meet him there.-GL_

_Sir, he may be delayed. –A_

_I can wait. - GL_

Greg left New Scotland Yard and made a quick stop at his own place to get a couple of personal items and have a quick shower. Then he stopped at a Thai place to pick up some food for them. He shook his head and smiled when a sleek black sedan pulled up to meet him outside of the Thai place. He was always watched. Always. Sometimes it irked him, but he knew it was a part of dating a man who quietly ran the British Government. 

He slipped into the car and let it drive him comfortably to the Diogenes Club. The pure white building was bathed in the soft glow of street lights by the time Gregory Lestrade stepped inside. He was immediately approached silently by one of the club’s many well-trained butlers, and escorted up the stairs. He knew he was being taken to Mycroft’s private office. One of the advantages, Mycroft had once explained, of co-founding a club like this, was that you could have some space to make it what you want.

Anthea looked up from her tablet and smiled politely as Greg was escorted into the office’s outer waiting room. When the door closed on them, she said, “He should be done in a moment or two, sir.”

“Thanks,” Greg replied, settling onto the stiff couch across from her desk.

After a couple of minutes, the door to Mycroft’s office opened and the man himself stepped out.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me, Mr. Holmes.”

“Of course, Your Eminence. I am happy to help.”

The Cardinal shook hands with the politician and, giving the DI a curious glance, left with a waiting butler who escorted him out of the building.

Greg stood up and quirked a mischievous eyebrow at his boyfriend, eyes flicking for a moment to Anthea. 

“Anthea, dear. Go home,” Mycroft said, as Greg wound an arm around his waist.

The woman smiled politely at her boss and put her coat on. “May I remind you, sir, that you have an appointment with the Earl of Southwark tomorrow at 8:30am?”

“Of course. Thank you.”

She threw them a surreptitious smirk as she closed the door behind her. They heard her lock it and then the muffled sound of her heels on the carpet.

Mycroft leaned back against the door frame, his head making a soft _thump_ as it hit the solid wood behind him. Greg smirked and moved resolutely into his personal space, pressing himself up against him, letting his need be felt.

“Gregory…we’re in my office. It’s not suitable.”

Suddenly, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade decided that he’d had enough. Enough teasing. Enough waiting. Enough almost touching. He shoved a leg roughly between Mycroft’s thighs, pushing them apart. 

“I don’t fucking care that it’s not _suitable!_ ” he hissed into Mycroft’s ear. “I – we – have been waiting for too long. I want to lay you out on your big traditional _sturdy_ desk and _fuck_ you.” Mycroft whimpered. Actually whimpered. Greg smiled into his neck. “Are you going to stop me?” He rhythmically pushed his arousal against the other man. 

“No,” Mycroft whispered, eyes closed as his body answered with its own arousal.

Greg ran his hand up his boyfriend’s chest and neck, fingers pulling at the stiff collar to get at the skin beneath. He grunted softly in frustration when he couldn’t get to enough skin. He desperately wanted to sink his teeth into Mycroft’s neck and knew that the politician didn’t like it when he left visible bruises.

Pulling back, Greg guided them inside and shut the door behind them, hastily shedding his trench coat. He didn’t need to look around to know the layout of Mycroft Holmes’s private Diogenes office, and he reached over and turned most of the lights off. The office was somewhat traditional in design with light wood paneling and paintings on the walls. One wall was covered in dark inset bookshelves. Opposite was a fire place, where a small fire burned and cast soft dancing light around the room. 

Greg ignored the grouping of comfortable arm chairs around the fireplace in favor of predatorily walking Mycroft backwards until he bumped into his desk. The desk was big, made of strong wood. It screamed tradition, institution, and law. He had fantasized about this for a long time. Greg grinned ferally, letting his intentions be seen in his eyes. Mycroft lifted his chin in a silent dare.

Luckily there wasn’t much on the desk as this was merely his secondary office, and Greg lifted his boyfriend up and sat him on the edge. He stood between Mycroft’s spread legs. Mycroft leaned back on his hands as Greg loosened the tie, pulled it free, and undid the top buttons on the crisp white shirt. 

“Finally,” Greg muttered as he pulled the white fabric aside and licked and sucked at the newly uncovered skin. Mycroft whimpered softly and tilted his head back. Greg took several minutes on just one spot. “I’m going to mark you here and every day for the next week, you’re going to know that you’re carrying my mark on your skin beneath your posh proper clothes.”

“Yesss. Please Gregory.”

Greg grinned and licked a path up his neck. “We’re not at the part yet where you beg.”

Mycroft worried his lower lip between his teeth as his boyfriend undid the buttons on his slate colored waist coat, and then began on the shirt buttons. “Fuck. You wear too many clothes,” Greg muttered. “It’s like your armor or something.”

“Well, I’m not going to get dramatic about my daily battles, but it does help to be properly dressed…” Mycroft moaned softly as his jacket, waist coat, and shirt were pushed aside. Greg sighed when he saw the white undershirt.

“Four layers? Really, Myc?” he asked fondly, impatiently pushing the many layers up and off, letting them hit the floor with a soft thump. 

Greg got to work on his shoes and socks. He pulled his slacks and pants down in one go, leaving him completely nude on his desk. The DI stood back a moment and admired his boyfriend. His long, lithe limbs and pale skin were a stark contrast to the dark wood of the desk, and he wished that he could take a picture of this moment.

“So incredibly beautiful,” he murmured, running a hand up Mycroft’s leg. He picked up one leg and placed a soft kiss to the back of his knee. 

Mycroft shuddered. “And are you planning to merely _look_ at me, Gregory?”

Greg smirked and sat in Mycroft’s imperious looking chair, watching him. “And what if that’s exactly what I plan to do?” he replied in challenge.

Mycroft closed his eyes, bending one leg seductively, putting himself on display. He ran a hand down his chest and took a hold of his now hard cock and gave himself a squeeze. He groaned softly and swallowed. “Are you sure, Gregory? It seems like such a waste now that we’re both here.”

Greg stood up and the other man’s eyes slid down to the very obvious bulge in his slacks. “See what you’d done to me?” Greg said, palming himself. “Keeping me waiting,” he growled, roughly grasping Mycroft’s chin for a passionate kiss.

Mycroft responded in full, pulling him down for more. “Please Gregory. I need you in me.”

The DI pulled back and rearranged his boyfriend on the desk, spreading his legs wide and hanging off the side in front of the chair. He ran his hands up the inside of the pale thighs, eliciting a soft shuddering hum. He chuckled. 

“You’re always so sensitive when we haven’t met in a while, Myc. I’m going to pound your arse so hard you’ll be screaming down the Diogenes.”

“Is that a promise, Detective Inspector?”

“Most definitely,” he replied and leaned down and bit his inner left thigh, leaving teeth marks in the pale smooth skin. 

Mycroft gasped. “Well. Then might I request that you determine a way to prevent that from occurring, Gregory? As a founding member of this club, it would be unfortunate were I to break the dictum of silence.” 

Greg looked up. Heat pooled in his belly at the sight of the great politician staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, panting and desperately trying to maintain the rapidly deteriorating threads of control he had. There was something utterly erotic and stimulating about having a man like this put his trust in him. He lovingly caressed Mycroft’s side and leaned down to claim his lips in a passionate kiss. 

Mycroft’s teeth held onto Greg’s lower lip when they pulled apart. “New goal,” Greg said breathily, “Fuck you so hard that I make you forget that impressive vocabulary of yours.”

“Doubtful, Gregory,” he replied, licking his dry lips, “But you’re welcome to try.” The ginger-haired man quirked his eyebrows in challenge and pressed his hips up wantonly.

Greg chuckled. “Don’t run away,” he said with a playful smack to Mycroft’s hip as he padded over to his discarded clothes. He bent down, making sure to give his lover a good view of his arse, and pulled out the tube of lube. His hands hovered over the bag containing the few toys he’d brought, but as he glanced over to where his boyfriend lay watching him, he changed his mind. Instead he grabbed Mycroft’s tie and the matching silk handkerchief folded carefully in the suit’s breast pocket.

“So, how attached to this tie are you, love?” 

Mycroft quirked one elegant eyebrow. “I suppose it’s not one of my favorites,” he replied slowly, watching as Greg prowled towards him.

“Excellent.” Greg grinned. He stood between his spread legs and gently ran the handkerchief over the skin of Mycroft’s left thigh, letting it brush against his weeping cock. Mycroft closed his eyes tightly and hissed as his hips jerked up on their own accord. He swallowed a cry as Greg repeated the action on the other thigh.

Finally, Greg took pity on his lover. Smirking, he folded the tie over on itself a number of times. “Mouth open, love.” He pushed the dark red fabric inside his mouth. Mycroft obediently bit down on his makeshift gag, but he did quirk an eyebrow at his boyfriend as if to say _Oh really?_

Greg gently pulled up Mycroft’s cock and heavy balls, and wrapped them in the red silk handkerchief. He ignored the muffled whimpers as he tightened the improvised cock ring at the base of his cock. 

“Think that’ll hold you?” he asked, and received a nod in response. He maneuvered Mycroft’s arms up so that he could hold onto the edge of the desk near his head. “Hold on. Yeah, just like that.”

Greg stood back and admired his handiwork. His lips curled into a predatory smile. “Beautiful, Myc. And sexy as hell.” Bright blue eyes stared up at him. “In fact….” Greg rummaged around his discarded clothes and pulled out his phone.

Mycroft grunted several times emphatically. “Don’t worry, love,” Greg soothed a hand over his stomach. “These will be just for us. Promise. Think of how fun it’ll be later to look at them together.” Mycroft lay back, mollified for the moment. 

Grinning, Greg leaned down and tongued the tip of his boyfriend’s cock. It was hard and weeping, and he blindly aimed the camera phone at his face, hoping he got a good shot of his tongue worshiping Mycroft Holmes. He took a few more pictures as he watched Mycroft already squirming in pleasure on his desk.

Greg smoothed some lube onto his fingers and probed between the tempting spread arse cheeks. Mycroft went very still and spread his legs wider for his boyfriend. Greg smiled fondly and carefully stretched him out, pushing, twisting, and spreading his fingers. He positively loved doing this. Fingering Mycroft Holmes was a guaranteed method of reducing the Ice Man to a puddle of erotically moaning goo. The moans were muffled by the tie, but it was an erotic sight nonetheless. 

When Mycroft was sufficiently stretched, Greg slicked up his cock and pushed the tip into the inviting cleft. He paused, eyes glued to the sight of his cock penetrating his lover, whose cock and balls were bound in a piece of deep red silk. The sight was utterly amazing and he had to squeeze himself to stop an impending orgasm. He glanced up at Mycroft’s face and blushed. Of course the man had noticed, and managed to make a condescending face, even while his mouth was stretched around his gag.

Grinning, Greg picked up his phone. He turned the camera to video and slowly pushed in, hissing at the feeling. He managed to get about a minute of video before the need to go faster took over. He put the phone down and grasped Mycroft’s hips strongly.

“Ok, Myc. Now I’m gonna give you the fucking you need.”

Greg pulled out almost completely and stayed there, teasing them both. They locked eyes. Mycroft, who had been squirming on the desk, relaxed and let his head hit the wood, silently submitting. 

“Just like that,” Greg breathed, licking his dry lips.

He slammed back in, earning a muffled howl from the man beneath him. Mycroft held onto the desk, his hands turning white at the effort as Greg picked up and set a brutal pace. Aching loneliness and desire and lust and love from time spent apart welled up inside of Greg and he let it all out on his lover. 

Panting, Greg watching the pleading in Mycroft’s eyes. He took pity and, with shaking hands, undid the silk binding the other man’s cock and balls. It took only two strokes for Mycroft to shudder, screaming into his gag as he came hard. Greg wasn’t far behind. 

Panting hard, Greg leaned down, head on Mycroft’s soft belly. He felt hands softly caressing his hair and the back of his neck. He placed soft, reverent kisses to the skin beneath his lip and looked up at his boyfriend with a satisfied smile. 

Mycroft took out his makeshift gag and threw it on the floor. He licked his lips and swallowed several times. He smiled down at his boyfriend. “I commend you on being so creative, Gregory,” he said fondly, running a thumb over Greg’s ear.

Greg chuckled. “Damn. I thought for sure I’d fucked the words right out of you.”

Mycroft laughed softly. “Are you saying you only like me for my body, Detective Inspector?”

“Hah. No, just that I love watching you come undone.” Greg fondly kissed his way up to his boyfriend’s lips. “Come on. I brought Thai food. I’m starved.”

Mycroft slipped off the desk with Greg’s help. “Well, I am sorry you didn’t achieve either of your goals,” he said, running a hand over Greg’s hip as they picked up their clothes.

“Well,” Greg said with a smirk, “there’s always next time.”


End file.
